


Go F*** Yourself

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Swap, Castiel Talks Dirty (Supernatural), Dirty Talk, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Smut, body swap sex, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: Dean loved Cas to death, but he was not looking forward to spending the next 24 hours in his short, dorky little body. Then he saw that familiar “I just got a sex idea” smirk on his own face and his (Cas’s) stomach flipped.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 128





	Go F*** Yourself

This was _beyond_ the weirdest sex thing Dean had ever done, he thought as he watched his own green eyes sparkle up at him mischievously, as his own mouth slowly descended on his cock.

Well, not _his_ cock. Cas’s cock.

Good grief, was _this_ what it was like from Cas’s point of view when Dean went down on him?

When considering the age old question ( _would you fuck your clone?_ ), Dean had always thought that his own self-loathing would be too strong for him to enjoy himself (haha, wordplay). But the fact that he knew that it was his angel looking back at him through his eyes made the experience less awkward and more mind-blowingly hot.

The artifact Dean and Cas had stumbled upon in the backlogs of the Bunker had seemed innocuous enough, just a pinkish glass sphere. But the second their hands had touched it, Dean suddenly felt a rush, like he was being picked up by a strong gust of wind and thrown across the room. Then everything went white, and he woke up on the floor with the artifact in shards around him, and his own face was hovering over him, looking down at him in an uncharacteristically bewildered and concerned way. Like the way _Castiel_ often looked at him...oh no...

Once Sam was done laughing his ass off at their dilemma, he found the Hedialli Sphere in the Men of Letters records. Apparently it pulled a Freaky Friday on any two individuals who touched it at the same time.

Luckily, Sam had said, since the sphere was now broken, the effects would reverse themselves naturally...in 24 hours.

Dean loved Cas to death, but he was not looking forward to spending the next 24 hours in his short, dorky little body. Then he saw that familiar “ _I just got a sex idea_ ” smirk on his own face and his (Cas’s) stomach flipped. Man, if he didn’t know that his fella was an angel, he’d swear the guy was an incubus or something. The guy was so inexplicably _kinky._

So here they were, with Dean-in-Cas’s-body sitting on the edge of his memory foam mattress with Cas-in-Dean’s-body kneeling on the floor in front of him, mouth stuffed with cock. Man, Dean just knew he was gonna feel that when he got back in his own body, the stiffness in his thighs, the ache in his knees. But right now he could give a shit less, and was concentrating on not blowing his wad right then and there as he thought to himself: _I am ostensibly sucking my own dick._

(Of course, it wouldn’t matter if Dean did come at this moment; Castiel’s body could go as many rounds as he wanted, technically, since angel grace shortened the refractory period to basically nothing. But it was a matter of pride. He didn’t want to erupt in under two minutes like a goddamn fifteen year old, right?)

Cas pulled off and looked up at Dean. “Do you see it?” he asked huskily, and Dean shuddered at the sound of his own rough voice. There was something about this whole thing that was so _wrong_ , and yet... “Do you see how gorgeous your lips look stretched around my cock, Dean?”

“Jesus H. Christ, Cas,” Dean gasped, covering his mouth. “Where do you learn that kind of language?”

It wasn’t like Cas never talked dirty to him, but when it was coming out of _his own mouth,_ it sounded a thousand times filthier. Dean was blushing like a whore in church.

Cas smirked at him, and damn, _now_ Dean could see what the ladies (and several of the fellas) saw in him. “Who do you think I learned it from, _Dean?”_ the angel said pointedly.

Then Castiel was pulling him forward with a hand to the back of his own neck, and Dean found himself kissing his own mouth. He could taste his own cinnamon-flavored toothpaste and a faint hint of the finger of bourbon he’d tossed back earlier. It made his head spin.

Castiel chuckled, moving to Dean’s (Cas’s) neck. He started sucking kisses down his throat, hard enough to leave lasting hickies on human skin, but not angel skin. Angel skin healed itself right up, a decent hickie disappearing in five minutes. “I suppose I’m just marking myself up, hmm?” Cas murmured in Dean’s ear. “I wish you could leave marks on my body, Dean. I love the thought of being utterly owned by you, the same way I own you.”

Well technically, Dean _could_ do that, while they were in this predicament. He gently nudged Cas to give him access to his own neck, kiss and nip there, tasting his own sweat. It wasn’t as gross as one would think. Dean was fully aware that Cas’s body was exponentially stronger than his, that he could snap his own neck with ease, so he tried to be delicate with himself. But when Cas moaned _“harder”_ and clenched his (Cas’s) messy dark hair, Dean had no choice but to oblige.

 _I’m gonna look so fucked when we swap back. I’m gonna be covered in my own love bites,_ Dean thought deliriously.

The angel finally pulled away and went back to sucking Dean off. Dean moaned at the hot, wet sensation and threaded his fingers gently through his own short hair. Hmm. Not as easy to grab onto as Cas’s. Maybe he should let it grow out a bit, like the way he’d had it when he was a demon. So Cas could give it a little tug every now and then. They’d both like that.

Cas took him all the way down his throat (and Cas had a fat dick so that was not an easy feat) and swallowed around him, again looking up at him with Dean’s own green eyes. It was too hot, too hot. Dean moaned and came down his own throat, hoping Cas could take it better than he’d be able to, if their positions were reversed. Uh. Re-reversed.

Sucking him through the aftershocks and finally pulling off, Castiel stood up, his own hard dick—Dean’s own hard dick—close to his face.

“C-can I?” He asked, reaching out for his own cock. “Lemme...I wanna suck you, Cas,” he admitted, blushing deeply. He wanted to suck his own dick. Just to be able to say he had done it.

Holy shit, he had freckles on his hips too, he realized, not just his face. How was that even possible, his bare hips never saw direct sunlight.

Castiel grasped Dean’s dick, stroked a couple of times slowly, moaning, then held it out to Dean invitingly.

Dean closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and leaned forward.

His dick was leaking. His own precome was the first thing he tasted. It was...not terrible. Obviously it wasn’t apple pie or anything, but for jizz it really wasn’t that bad. It tasted clean, as least.

Dean slowly lapped over his own head like he knew he liked, teasing his slit, and he heard Cas moan above him. Dean smirked inwardly. _I could’ve done porn,_ he thought.

Then he slid his tongue over the shaft, licking over that vein on the underside, and listened to Cas’s breath quicken. He reached between his legs to cup his own sack and-

Cas stepped away, panting. “No. Don’t...wanna finish yet,” he said breathily, and Dean saw that when he was close to coming, there was a blush on his chest as well as his face and ears. Huh.

“What do you wanna do?” Dean asked, crooking his finger for Cas to get over here.

Cas smiled warmly and came and straddled Dean’s lap, kissing him deeply. The two of them moaned simultaneously. “I want to ride you,” Cas murmured in between kisses. “I want to ride _myself_.”

Dean groaned. “Fuck, I think you’re gonna kill me.”

“Impossible. You’re currently impervious to everything apart from angel blades.”

Dean laughed, some of the tension going away. “So fuckin’ hard for you, Cas,” he whispered, running his hands down his own chest. Oof, maybe he should start joining Sam on his morning runs. He was starting to get what the kids were calling a ‘dad bod.’”

Cas took his hands and graciously kissed his knuckles. “Your body is beautiful,” he said, knowing Dean well enough to know what he was thinking even without angel mojo as a cheat sheet. “I am quite honored to wear it, if only for one day. You have a handsome face, strong arms, gorgeous muscular legs, and yes, even your stomach is admirable.”

Dean blushed. “Cas...”

“I have lived for an eternity, have watched the first sunrise, the first butterfly unfurl its new wings for the first time, every nebula and galaxy in the cosmos, and they all pale in comparison to you, Dean. Your soul permeates your mortal flesh and reflects the beauty within. You truly are God’s greatest masterpiece.”

“I... _Cas_...” Dean literally couldn’t handle it when the angel said these things to him.

Cas dropped his head to lay kisses along his shoulder. “When I went to hell to save your soul, I worried I would have to spend days, weeks, maybe months searching for you among the damned. I didn’t have to. The soul of the Righteous Man was so brilliant that I found him in an instant. And then I put your body back together with my own two hands, trying to build a vessel to do justice to your radiance. I think I did an excellent job.” Cas smirked.

“Fuck. Fuck me,” Dean groaned, his burning face buried in Cas’s chest. His own chest. Whatever.

“No, Dean. You’re going to fuck me.”

Dean blindly felt around for the lube as he and Cas kissed again. Then his trembling hands popped the cap and got his fingers slicked up. As he eased the first digits inside of his own tight hole, he thought to himself, _at least I know how to do this much._

He swirled his finger inside himself like he knew he liked and Cas sighed, dropping his head to press his forehead against Dean’s. Then Dean slid in further and brushed over his own prostate, and Cas gasped, keening, and Dean grinned. _Jackpot._

Finally when Cas was well slicked open for Dean, Cas gripped Dean’s shoulders and achingly slowly sunk down on his own cock. “Ohhh,” Cas breathed as he filled himself up.

“I know,” Dean murmured, soothingly kissing his neck. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it? Love the way you split me open, baby.”

Cas looked him in the eye. “And don’t you feel incredible too, Dean? Your tight, hot entrance around you, sucking you in, squeezing you just right? Don’t you feel wonderful? This is how you make me feel all the time, Dean.”

Dean moaned in response, letting himself drown in the sensations of his own body wrapped around him.

Castiel began to bounce gently on his lap. “The way you just take me, Dean, like your little hole is hungry for it, so desperate to filled. But only by me, of course. No one could satisfy you like I do.”

“No one, oh, I need your cock in me, baby,” Dean whined, arousal quickly building and building inside him.

“I love being inside you, Dean,” Cas whispered enticingly. “You fit me like a glove. Like you were made just for me. And now you can feel the rapture that I feel when your needy hole takes me. It’s like coming home. It’s so good. Your hot body squeezing me so tight-“

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come, Cas,” Dean sobbed, dick hard enough to pound nails inside Cas—inside himself.

“Yes, my Righteous Man, come for me. I’m about to come too, can you feel it? Touch me, make me come with you.”

Dean, near delirious from the pleasure, took hold of his own dick and started to stroke in time with Castiel driving down on him. The two of them were reduced to moans and wordless cries as they finally tipped over the edge.

Still basking in the afterglow, they crawled onto the bed and got under the covers, clinging to each other’s (well, their own) sweaty bodies desperately. Dean kissed Cas on the forehead. “Damn kinky angel,” he mumbled, drawing a giggle from Cas. It was definitely a Cas giggle. Dean _knew_ he didn’t laugh like that...right?

“Hey, Cas?” Dean asked a few minutes later. “How many hours we got left till this Friday gets unFreaky’d?”

Cas checked the digital alarm clock on Dean’s bedside table. “Roughly...19 hours?”

“Cause I was kinda wonderin’...what is it like to _get fucked_ by myself?”

Cas chuckled, pulling Dean closer. “I believe that can be arranged.”


End file.
